Ti Amo, Cugina, Sempre
by ZCipher
Summary: Ti Amo, Cugina, Sempre - I Love You Always, Cousin - Missing very AU interactions between Mary and Vincent. Once Michael Corleone tells him that he must not see his cousin the way he has been anymore, Vincent must choose what's most important to him.
1. Chapter 1

"Where are you going?" Mary asked, watching her cousin Vincent like a hawk, like if she looked away, he could disappear into thin air. And he might because he could be so elusive these days. His evasiveness dismayed her, keeping her on edge. She had hoped that being here with him in Sicily would have been such a romantic time for them. They could be together so much more, going to secluded beaches, dining out in fine, rustic restaurants, taking long, leisurely walks in stately, sprawling gardens, holding hands all the while. But, none of this had happened, and it looked as if none of it would. Vincent had grown quite distant, as though they had become strangers instead of being in love. His aloofness made her sad and anxious. She truly believed their love could conquer anything...even her father's obdurate attitude.

"Out, Cuz..."

That answer wasn't good enough, not by a long shot. Mary bumped up in front of him, barring his way. "Out _where_?"

"Remember, Mary? It's like I started telling you, but you wouldn't let me finish. Not all the way, at least. There are things I'm going to be involved with-"

"Things involved with the family," the young and fair Corleone pinpointed, placing herself fully in charge of this impromptu interrogation. Her smile lit up the room; her dark brown eyes flashed. She unfolded her arms from across her chest and extended them to him. Her hands grabbed his. "Vinnie, I know this, but that doesn't mean we can't do fun things together. You know, like when we were back home, at your club...or, at your place."

Just for a moment, her open expression, so endearing, made him forget how much things must change between them. Change was mandatory; he had promised Uncle Mike. Michael Corleone was stepping aside, and he wanted Vincent to take his place. It was up to him now to seize the reins and control where the family went. He wanted this, had "made bones" by taking out Joey Zaza to prove himself. His uncle's irritation with his rash actions had faded. Michael was sure that, with more mentoring, Sonny's bastard son would think more with his head and not his trigger finger.

Vincent thrilled, looking forward to being the new Godfather. He would cease being Vincent Mancini in the family's eyes and henceforth be known as Vincent Corleone. Deep down, he felt that he still had so much to prove, although, he was proud that Michael thought him worthy to have him helm the family business, the legitimate side of things, and now the other aspect of Corleone dealings. It was an honor being a spy for Michael. His uncle had made the best decision; Uncle Mike would not be sorry that he had chosen him.

The 'Don-In-The-Wings' smiled at his cousin playfully then. They had this game they played. Mancini let Mary think that she was still in charge of everything; it was fun to pretend. Especially since Mary did serious 'messing' with his heart. As smitten as he was, withdrawal was going to be a painful process. "Yes. Things you can't know about, Mary. Things that demand my hundred and one percent attention." Michael Corleone's words whispered in his mind; they plagued him. His uncle and mentor, Mary's father, expected that he surrender his intensely tender feelings for her. Michael could not allow his daughter being in harm's way now that he had entrusted the family's future to Vincent.

"Because...my dad has asked you to."

Vincent gave her _that look_, the one Mary would laugh at because she said it made him look like _Pagliacci, _a very sexy one. "I'm going to tell you something, Mary, and you've got to listen. You'll listen, right? You've got to."

He sounded so stern again, so suddenly, so Don-like, as if he were speaking to his handpicked coterie behind locked doors.

Nodding, she said that she would, but Vincent doubted that she was serious. Mary was stroking both of his cheeks with her hands and her beautiful, soulful eyes were easily capable of beguiling him. He launched into a full blown speech about what was expected of him in his new role.

Mary, nodding here and there while softly punctuating his somber dissertation in strategic places with, "Yes, Vinnie, I understand," listened with all of her heart. She could listen to him forever. He was her dream man, despite their kinship and his being seven years older. With every breath he took, she sighed, hanging on his every word and the dips in his lovely voice. She was more in love with him now than before; it would always be this way.

Always...

When Vincent had finished his long-winded appeal for her to forget about their being together as they had been, before Michael had taken notice, Vinnie did so with," Do you understand, Mary?"

The radiant _Maria_, as her Aunt Connie was in the habit of calling her, genuflected adoringly at her handsome cousin. _Tall, dark and scrumptious_, she couldn't stop herself from thinking. _He sounds so tough and no nonsense...oh, wow._ _He could be a movie star. Oh yeah..._

Her heart was beating incredibly fast. "Yeah, Vinnie, I understand. I do."

"Oh, do you...do you really?" Vincent humored. _Mary, Mary, quite contrary, but so amazing, what am I going to do with you_... He couldn't help himself. He laughed, releasing any built-up tension between them. The old, easy-going Vinnie was back.

Before he knew what was happening, the new Don of the Corleone family had his cousin's arms wrapped around his neck. As she squeezed him tight, sweetly, Mary funneled into his ear, "I love you, Cuz," and she pressed kisses against the shell of Vincent's perfect ear.

Following a deep, protracted sigh, Vincenzo Mancini buried his nose deeply into his cousin's supple neck wherein her pulse throbbed, and replied, "I love you too, Cuz."

He was powerless to put her off. That would come later when it was absolutely necessary that he never see her again like this. For now, he'd keep loving her, the way she loved him. He'd be her fool until he couldn't anymore. He'd sooner die than hurt her, but he had promised her father. Vincent squeezed his eyes shut and let the perfume his incredible cousin wore, comingling with the heady Sicilian air that wafted in through the tall, open baroque windows, heighten his senses.

"_Ti amo, Cugina. Sempre_..."

Mary hugged him tighter, her breathing thready and highly audible. "Me too."

Tenderly, Vincent caressed her cheek as Mary fingered his lips. When they kissed, sparks went off in their heads; the air around them seemed to buzz. The kiss deepened and time began flexing. So immersed in each other, so thoroughly caught up in the moment in which their ardor blazed, they did not hear the door of Mary's bedroom open. Michael's light knocking at his daughter's door had gone unheeded. A look of deep discontent, merged with sorrow and pique, was etched in Corleone's hard-set face. He cleared his throat, purposely emphatic, to break them apart from each other. His frown deepened.

"Vincent," Michael's voice gravely interfered, "I'd like to speak with you. _Now_."

"Dad," Mary breathlessly appealed. Much desperation saturated her tone to match the agony manifesting itself in her worried-looking eyes.

Michael Corleone refused to look at his child. He would lock her in this room forever, throwing away the key if he had to, to keep her away from this man. He had warned her about this very thing. Despite his growing affection for Sonny's illegitimate son, Michael was dead set against Mary's disturbing attachment to Vincenzo. He would never condone their relationship; it was wrong, plain and simple. He should not have to spell it out; they should have known. They were related by blood; if they married, how did they think their children would turn out? Mary was too naive for her own good. As her father, he was soley responsible for shielding her from the life of villiany and mayhem he was asking Vincenzo to take on.

He was giving them a choice. Either they eradicate the feelings they had for each other, or he would. There was no other alternative.

Grimly, with great remorse, Michael contemplated the tragic death of his first wife, his forever-beloved Apollonia, killed by that car bomb meant for him. To this day, he had never forgiven himself. What right had he to have fallen in love with such an innocent village girl, who had known nothing of the kind of evil he would come to know? Then, his turbulent, dark thoughts became filled with Kay, all the betrayals, the lies, the letdowns...and inaudibly he gasped. If he had it to do over again, he thought, sighing, and abruptly stopped thinking along those lines. What was the point? The past was the past; nothing of it could be undone, no matter his eternal grief.

He stood in Mary's bedroom obsessed, wanting far better for his children and they would have it. He had sworn that they would. He could withstand Mary's hatred, so long as she was protected, free to live out her days, being her own woman, apart from what a precarious life with Mancini would bring her.

"_Now_, Vincenzo." Michael turned his back on them and stalked out of his daughter's bedroom.

"Vinnie..."

"Not now, Mary."

"But-"

"Later." Vincent pleaded with her with tears in his eyes. His tears stood like sentinels within them; he refused to shed any. He knew what was coming and he must face it resolutely. "I promise,_ bella_." He closed his eyes. He must be strong, he repeated to himself, though he felt as if he were being raked over white-hot coals. He opened his eyes with the moisture quivering in them. His throat ached right along with his heart and his head. He had given his word to his uncle; now he knew he'd be giving it to him again. Only this time, he was determined to follow through, knowing that it was going to cost him his heart, which his breathtaking Mary wholly owned.

_Ti amo, cugina. Sempre_...he clung to as his heart shambled through several unsteady beats. Stiffly, with his head hung down, he began leaving his true love's bedroom. It was next to impossible not looking back. Half of him wanted to stay with her, demanding that he reject Michael's offer outright now that he had really thought it over. Mary meant more to him than this sordid morass of underworld crime. Did he truly want his raven-haired beauty to save him from it? Somehow, did he believe he could have her and still be the Corleone Don too? Secretly, that was what he wanted.

Uncle Mike wasn't going to live forever. Mary and he could be discreet and hide their relationship from Michael Corleone until that day came when the once-great Don died.

Maybe he should just ran away with Mary, run so far away that it seemed they had fallen off the ends of the earth.

They could, couldn't they?

Vincent blinked like a man awakening from a deep, troubled sleep. His thoughts betrayed him. Could he callously betray his uncle's trust like that? And run? Really? There was nowhere to hide from the Family. He, of all people, Joe Zaza's cold-blooded killer, should know that most of all. Obeying his uncle's wishes by forsaking his daughter was the imposed requirement. There was nothing else to consider and it was the only honorable thing to do. He owed his uncle so much; he owed him everything and his giving up Mary, above all things.

Nevertheless, Vincent ached as he had never ached before in his entire life. The hurt would persist for a very long time.

"Vinnie, don't go," Mary implored, wringing her hands.

He halted his retreat and faced her. "_Ciao, bellisima mia_. If I can, I'll see you later, but if I can't," he quietly spoke, "I'll be thinking about you." Then he moved off to leave her, not looking back as her father had done. And he thought: _I constantly think about you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing before I go to sleep angelica_...

"You do everything he tells you?"

Vinnie paused his departure, unable to stop himself from glaring at her, but just for a moment. Kindly, he brought up, "That '_he_' is your father." He searched her eyes with his; hers always examined him. "Never forget the respect you owe him," Vincent admonished. "He wants what's best for you. Always has, always will."

Mary sounded overwhelmed and very girlish when she upheld, "You're what's best for me."

Vincent gently rolled his eyes while smirking. "Come on. I'm a hood. I've killed and stolen, many, many times. I've had others do it for me. Your father, who loves you more than you could ever imagine, wants better for you than. I want it too."

"I'm not stupid."

"When have I ever said you were?"

"I know all about Dad. Look at him now. I've heard him talk about you. You're like his son; he's said so. I only know that you're the best, _caro mio_. I love you so much, Vinnie."

He felt his knees go weak and quickly had to remind himself that Michael was waiting for him, ready to lay down the law about this very subject. The words were a split second away from leaving his lips, but he couldn't bring himself to say that she should love another. He adored her too much to even suggest that she do that. At a loss, he murmured, "This I know, _tesora_; this I know."

Looking distraught, Mary nodded, and contritely said, "I'm sorry. I'm just a kid."

"You're beautiful, _Cara_."

"I wish I was a lot older. I'd tell my dad that you're the only man I want to marry and he couldn't stop me."

"_Preziosa_. You're a woman in every sense of the word. No matter how old you were, your father would always feel the same. The need to protect and cherish you." Tenderly, Vinnie gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They held each other in the embrace until he eased her away from himself and advised, "Hurry now."

She nodded, but just stood, gazing at him longingly several moments longer.

He looked at her, heartsick. How in the world was he supposed to quash this romance, even if it was for Mary's own good? He was head over heels in love with her and pushing her away was getting harder and harder to do. Thickly, he said, "Finish getting ready to go shopping with Aunt Connie."

"_Amore mio_," Mary whispered and trembled in the expansive, tastefully decored bedroom. Watching him leave her room, she shed the tears Vincent had been too proud to let fall. "I'm never giving you up. _Lo giuro_," she swore. There had to be a way she could be with him, whatever it took. She didn't care; she was never going to stop loving her gorgeous man. She threw herself on her bed and began thinking as hard as she could. "What if..." Vinnie was so smart, she thought. _He'll think of something_, she convinced herself and wiped the tears from her eyes and face. Hope rekindled itself in her. "We ran away and got married. Then Dad wouldn't be able to stop us. It would be too late," she whispered to herself.

Mancini was well out of earshot from Mary's bedroom. He gazed at himself in the mirror in the hall, straightening his tie and smoothing down his hair before going into Michael's office. He appraised himself, attending to his appearance, until he was satisfied that he was presentable. There had been no lipstick to wipe off his face; Mary barely used any. When she did, the colors were soft, subtle, accentuating the flawlessness of her complexion.

Vincenzo smiled...

He had decided to broach the idea of Mary's and his being together from a different angle. If he finagled the positives of their relationship, Uncle Mike just might come around, he hankered. He smiled at himself again in the bevel-framed mirror. Before knocking on Corleone's closed door, Mancini moaned a quick prayer.


	2. Chapter 2

In a matter of a few days, her brother Anthony was going to have his big operatic debut in _Cavallaria Rusticana_, in cosmopolitan Palermo. It was the primary reason why the family had flown to this part of the world. The Corleones would travel to the capital city of both the autonomous region of Sicily and the Province of Palermo, to see one of their own steal the show. None doubted that he would. Anthony sang like an angel. Michael, Kay, Connie, as well as other members of the family, along with friends, were excited for him.

Mary was the most excited, here in this villa that belonged to the Corleone's longtime friend, Don Tommasino. She tingled with excitement while continuing to brush her long luxuriant hair. Critically, she scrutinized herself in the vanity mirror of her bedroom. There was a slight tremor in the hand that used the soft-bristled brush. Vinnie had told her that he had to go out, early, but that he'd be back soon. Mary couldn't wait till he returned. Her father and her mother were going on an excursion today. He had told his daughter long in advance about his intentions of spiriting Kay away. He had never peeped a word about these plans to his ex-wife, wanting it to be a tremendous surprise.

It made Mary happy, having her parents go off to enjoy the picturesque charm of Sicily together. Michael stipulated that Mary was to look after the two young cousins, Angelica, aged two and Tomas, aged four, while they were out soaking up local color. They were adorable kids, who were doll-like miniatures of Mary and Vincent. She didn't mind having to babysit the twin cuties at all. In essence, she was going to have the run of the house today. Mostly, the children would be under the supervision of their pretty young governess, Gabriella, who had looked after them since they'd been born.

Mary grinned as she looked out one of her bedroom windows. The weather was perfect; _just another day of sunshine and loveliness_, she thought, feeling exuberant. Practically every day had been gorgeous since the family had arrived here. The day felt bursting with promise, as did she. In her estimation, there was a brightness in this lay of her land. After having had that talk with Vinne a few days ago, it had left her feeling quite bleak. On a day like today, she realized that it really was a boost to one's spirits if a positive outlook on things was taken.

Her Aunt Connie was going to be out as well, visiting yet another sickly friend of the family, a spinster by the name of Theresa, up in the hill country. No one knew when she'd be back. It might be that she spent the night, nursing the old woman. Michael and Kay, after spending such a wonderful day with each other traipsing about, could decide to spend the night at a vintage Bed and Breakfast in the locality.

Aunt Connie was in the young couple's corner. She liked the idea of their having a relationship, much to her brother's dissent. Mary and Vincent were perfect together, the way they looked at each other when they thought no one was watching. Connie caught everything that passed between them and she was good for dropping hints that fell like bombs on Michael about the strong bond of affection between the attractive pair.

Mary had eaten her breakfast earlier, a continental one. _Signora_ Rosa Amaturo was a splendid chef. She'd been cooking for the Tommasino family for years. Her husband was still a fisherman and worked hard at what he loved, for the woman he loved, as though the two were newlyweds.

Once finishing her light repast of freshly-made biscotti and wonderfully refreshing _granita_, which literally meant crushed ice with flavored syrup, Mary thanked the seasoned culinary expert. Rosa blended the finest chopped almonds and perfectly-brewed coffee together, then added water and sugar. She stirred, then cooled the concoction until it was a dense granulated liquid. The cooking gastronome always used quality ingredients and had the patience to get the consistency just right. Her artistry with making good food fantastic was something the Corleones never tired raving about.

Mary descended the elegant stairway with so many good thoughts racing through her mind.

_Wonderfully convenient_, she thought, as she stood on the villa's porch, waving goodbye to her parents. Her father was such a kidder, when he wanted to be. He was pretending to be Kay's driver and when she got inside the late model limo, he was going to turn around and reveal his true identity.

Mary sighed, thinking how romantic it would be if her parents got back together and decided to remarry. Maybe this romantic outing with Kay would put her father in a better frame of mind about Vinnie and herself being able to be together. Michael refused to say another word on the matter to her. Vinnie told her that he was still working on Michael. Her father was right in every way about their not having a relationship, but the last time they had spoken, the retiring Godfather had not sounded as rigid about their not seeing each other outside of the villa.

Mary felt her heart beat faster. It was going to be great, having the house…and Vinnie too…all to herself while the rest of her family was away. She hoped none of them returned too soon. But, she could hardly wait for Vinnie to return from running an early morning errand her father had sent him on. Just for a moment, she fantasized that this magnificent villa was theirs. She and Vinnie were married and wildly happy here, raising their six kids, four boys and two girls. The fanciful Mary giggled as she sat on the Lapaz six-sectional couch in the living room with pulse cocoa painted walls. Angelica and Tomas were listening to her read _The Three Little Pigs_, _I Tre Porcellini_, in Italian. The children hung on Mary's every sweetly-spoken word. They especially liked it when she mimicked the wolf huffing and puffing.

Angelica would close her eyes and bury her face into Mary's side, her little body shaking. Tomas just there like a fearless little man, with wide eyes, watching what else his distant cousin from America would do while she made believe she was the big, bad _lupo_. It took another half hour of intense, expressive reading for the spunky little ones to grow dozy, in need of their afternoon nap. Mary helped Gabriella carry the kids into their nursery to bed them down. It was about twelve-thirty and still no sign of Vinnie. Mary went out into the Corleone vineyard and meandered into the garden. She began kicking around, wandering aimlessly. She felt serene amid the lush greenery. She breathed in, filling her lungs with the fragrant pleasing air and closed her eyes. Entrenched in her current mind-set, Mary floated, spreading out her arms as though she soared high atop this spacious setting. She loved Sicily; there were so many things to cherish and become attached to. She delighted in the proud antiquity of the _Regione Autonoma Siciliana_, its innate pastoral charm blended with marmoreal beauty. Its aura had thoroughly captured her limitless imagination. New York City had its skyscrapers; this august island had tangible earthiness and its stately marble, immersing it in timelessness.

She wished for her three best friends being here with her, enjoying all of this together as only they could. Toni-Ann and Maggie would have gelato every day, Mia, pizza, the real Sicilian kind. With her eyes still closed, her nose reveling in the splendid aromas and her mind spinning, Mary giggled some more.

Birds chirped freely in their heedless, occupied way. Full-fledged laughter escaped Mary. She started twirling until two powerful hands caught her in mid-spin.

"Hey, Cuz, what's so funny, huh?"

Mary popped open her eyes and squealed in sheer unbridled delight. She threw herself at Vinnie, who stood squarely before her. He looked too handsome for it to be legal in his three-piece suit, a cream-colored tie and a burnished pair of angular-capped Berluti shoes, cacao colored. He was a manly vision, all hers.

She had her arms around his neck, clinging to him. "What took you so long,_ Caro Mio_?"

Vinnie shrugged, treating her question for what it was, inconsequential. He slid his hands around her waist and kissed her forehead. "Does it matter? I'm here now."

He'd gone to pay Don Altobello another visit at Michael's request. The elderly, former New York boss was consummately convinced that Mancini had turned against his uncle and was now his man, snugly in his pocket.

"Nobody's here," Mary blithely told him.

"Yeah?" He looked at her all wiseacre, a look honed to perfection. "We are. What d'ya call us?"

"Free," she fired at him.

"Oh." He took his time as he stroked her long, glossy hair, gliding his fingers slowly through her tresses. Then his eyes took on mysteriousness and he coaxed them to get larger and conspiratorial. "What did you have in mind? Exactly?" He tugged on her hair as gently as could be. Vinnie egged her on, bringing her kittenish side to the fore, the side he couldn't get enough of.

Mary was his for the taking, but she wasn't his. If he wanted to keep himself in Uncle Mike's good graces, he'd been warned to back off. The trouble was, despite his being grateful to his uncle for so many things he'd never dreamed of having, Vinnie really wanted Mary. So much so, that he was all set to take it where he was forbidden to go, beyond the limits.

"You first," she coyly said.

"So…we're all alone here. Just you and me."

"Uh huh, except for Gabriella, Rosa and the sleeping twins."

"Too much of a crowd for what I have in mind, _Bella_."

Twisting in Vinnie's arms, Mary basked in his lovely smile as her tummy somersaulted. "What exactly do you have in mind, Cuz?"

"It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?"

"A very big one."

"When do I get to see it?"

"Full of questions, aren't you…"

"Vinnie," Mary whined.

He redoubled his effort to keep a straight face. "I'll show you on one condition."

"What condition?" she retorted pointedly.

He grabbed her shoulders to hold her in place, looking no nonsense. "You come with me. Now."

"Yes, sir." Nodding, Mary was the picture of dedicated compliance. "Where?"

"I've got a boat in Marsala waiting."

"A boat? Marsala? Huh?"

"Yeah, well…it's more of a yacht." Vinnie's eyes smoldered as they danced. His eyes nearly killed her with their implicit intensity. "I want to take you for a little ride, not too far, to a little island off the coast. The place is called Mozia, where the world's most famous cooking wine is made. Wine our family once exported."

"Yeah?" _At last_, Mary rejoiced. They were going to do something romantic. She was about to burst, replete with happiness. Vinnie was making her crazy, which she ate up.

"Uh huh."

"I hope there's some of the drinking kind too," Mary teased.

"Sure. There's plenty of that stuff. Hey, this is Italy, Cuz."

"What gave it away?" she continued ribbing.

"The place is crawling with _Paisans_."

He cracked her up and he could see that Mary was giving him her undivided attention, as she usually did. The love tucked in her eyes for him bowled him over, which made his proposition even more staunch. He had this idea; it didn't include anyone else, but them. There would be consequences, but he refused to think that far ahead because love did that to a man as deep in it as he was. They weren't running off. His beautiful Mary and he were coming together, as she so dearly wanted and he dared to believe they were meant to. They'd come back, not to be parted, as man and wife.

Vinnie knew Michael would most likely have his head to decorate a target, but he didn't care. He wanted what he wanted and he was going to have his girl, his Mary.

If it meant, and it probably would mean forfeiture of being the Don of the family, he could live with it. Mary Corleone was worth her weight in gold, literally. Vinnie knew she'd come into a large fortune when her father died, that is if Michael still wanted her to inherit it. After this stunt, maybe not, the bulk of the fortune going to Anthony instead.

He hadn't fallen in love with her prospective assets. His girl was magic.

Vinnie stopped thinking such qualifying thoughts that were materialistic. He concentrated on his girl's heart stealing and mind-bending countenance, which was a blueprint of so many tender emotions. He focused on her stunning inner beauty as well, which was considerable. "Are you ready?" He was tickled that she had no idea what he had in mind.

"Yes, Vinnie, I'm ready. Let's go."

Packing a few things in a single piece of luggage, they departed from the villa hand in hand. He held the door for Mary and she got into his gleaming car. He sprinted around to the driver's side, quickly fitting himself behind the wheel.

Vinnie looked at her; Mary looked at him.

Both were so much in love, oblivious to anything other than how they felt about each other. If Mary had a clue what was really going to happen, she didn't let on, nor said anything matrimonial in nature. Vinnie started the car and drove away in a cloud of fine dust. Mary told Rosa and Gabriella that she and Vinnie would not be back for supper; that was all she said. When her parents asked where she was, Mary told the women to tell them she was with Vincenzo. They would be back when they got back.

Gabriella's expression was unreadable at first. Then, the younger woman exchanged a worried look with the understanding looking chef, who knew the score. Many an Italian marriage began this way. Rosa knew all there was to know about this family's troubled history. What she and the governess had just witnessed was yet another chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Alas, this is the final installment of my fic's foray into the realm of The Godfather III alternate universe. Thanks for reading, and I sincerely hope it was enjoyed.

* * *

Off the coast of Mozia…

Vinnie was nothing if not thorough, and proud of it. He had seen to every detail, leaving not a thing to chance. He'd obtained the license, had the captain of the yacht background checked to make sure his credentials were what they should have been. He wanted everything to be perfect for his Mary; she deserved the best. Since he would be her husband, she was only going to have the best. He'd made this vow with himself. Nothing short of a bullet to his brain, heart, or other vital organ, would stop him in this.

Mary was dressed in alabaster white. Her wedding dress had transformed her into a vision of purity, which she was, and ethereal white light. The fragile bouquet of creamy ivory roses she held in both hands quivered ever so slightly in them. The sight of her entering the cabin, which was lit by diffused lighting, made Vincenzo go all weak in his knees. He couldn't tear his eyes from her and faintly in the distance, he heard Captain Luigi Lombardo, who was about to marry them, clear his throat.

"_Che una bella ragazza, signore_!" Luigi winked at Vinnie, who turned his face to him to favorably concur.

"She's the most beautiful young lady in the world," Mancini upheld and his heart fluttered more than it had when first catching sight of Mary at the cabin door. "And she's all mine," he muttered in a reverent undertone. He'd moved heaven and earth for her, and he'd do it anytime she asked him to.

Vinnie reflected that she richly deserved a big wedding. What passionate girl from such a large, connected family didn't? Thinking about how passionate Mary was caused his knees to buckle once again. He promised that after they were legally wed, and allowed some time, say when their marriage was in no danger of being annulled, they could tell Michael of their marriage.

For the time being, they would not tell a soul, not even Aunt Connie, although Vinnie knew that she would be thrilled that they had wed.

Mary was standing alongside her betrothed now and heard him say in one breathless whisper, "Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful, Cuz. You're Mona Lisa material."

"Back at ya, Cuz. You could've modeled for Da Vinci if they hadn't come up with that 'David' guy, if you'd lived back then." Playfully, Mary slugged his arm, right above the elbow. Okay, they were about to be married, but that didn't mean she had to be as serious as a heart attack. Her head was in the clouds, but she had her feet firmly planted on the ground, mindful of exactly what she was doing. She was about to become Mrs. Vincenzo Sonny Antonio Giacomo Mancini-Corleone. Giggling, she replied with mirth shining in her doe-like eyes, "You're not exactly moldy old gnocchi yourself, _Guardando bene_." She stopped grinning momentarily. "Hey—why so serious?"

"This is our _wedding_."

"Yeah. I know. Wow! I can't believe this is happening!" Teasing, she feigned on the verge of fainting, affixing the back of her hand, whose third finger bore the crazy-expensive engagement ring he had astounded her with when he'd slipped it on her finger during lunch on the boat, to her forehead, looking as if she'd swoon.

"Do you really want it to happen?"

"_Vinnie_! You know I do! Don't be _pazzo_, you nut!" Mary was rubbing the arm she had just clocked, fawning all over him while doing so.

"Then start acting like it. Be serious," Mancini scolded. His stomach was tied-up in knots. His thoughts had clouded with premonitions of his soon to be father-in-law's reaction when the fateful day came and they tipped him about what they had run off and done, rebelliously without his permission. Such disturbing, intrusive thoughts had their being a huge distraction written all over them.

"Yes, sir," Mary snapped back, but sounded every bit as facetious as she had when she had made the crack about Vinnie modeling for Da Vinci. Her youthful charm smoothed what her jocularity had ruffled. "Pardon my girlish savoir-faire. I'm just too happy to behave like what this wonderful, occasion calls for. I've dreamt about this ever since that day you picked me up in your arms and carried me out of your club's great kitchen." She pretended to pout. "Sorry, Vinnie…I'll be like you. Solemn. Promise."

Brusquely, he kissed her cheek and quickly interjected, sounding contrite, "I'm sorry, Mary. It's nerves. I really need to lighten up. You keep being the bubbly, Mary, like spumante, I'll never stop loving. Never, _Cara Mia Mi Bella_."

In a blur, Mary kissed him back, forthrightly on the lips. "It's going to be okay, Vinnie. We love each other and that's all that matters. I'll do whatever you say, but listen. Dad doesn't get to spoil any of this for us. Just believe that." She linked her arm with his and held on to it tightly. "I do, with all my heart."

"Then, let's do this," he spurred with a huge, confident grin wallowing on his handsome face.

Captain Lombardo initiated the vows. All that the first of the two lovers heard was:

"Do you, Vincenzo Sonny Antonio Giacomo Mancini, take Maria Angelica Constanza Rosa Corleone as your lawfully-wedded wife…"

After which, once the rest of what needed to be said had been spoken, Vinnie, with a scratchy dry throat and tearing eyes, gulped, then swore, "I do."

At long last, it was Mary's turn to half-hear the words delivered to her:

"And do you, Maria Angelica Constanza Rosa Corleone, take Vincenzo Sonny Antonio Giacomo Mancini as your lawfully-wedded husband…"

"You bet I do," anxiously tumbled from Mary's mouth once the rest of the words had been uttered.

Following a tad more vocalized legalese, Captain Lombardo declared the exalted words that bound them for as long as they both lived.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The newlyweds gasped at those sacred words and they thrilled hearing the captain's parting exhortation: "You may kiss the bride."

The kiss the bride and groom shared endured what felt like a lifetime. Indulgently, when they finally broke apart, Vinnie gushed, yes—gushed against Mary's moist, supple cheek, "I love you so much…so much, sweetheart. I can't live without you, Cuz, never will!"

Mary with undeniable devotion admitted the same to Vinnie and this too: "_Caro_, you're the cream in my cannoli. I'm just an empty shell without you!"

Giddy, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to their sleeping cabin, the train of her veil and wedding dress flowing over his arms. He restrained himself from ripping off her dress, but undress her he did. Mary likewise did the same to him, and once they were naked, lounging in each other's arms, they made love until the sun peeped above the horizon.

It was the best night of Mary's entire life…Vinnie's too. They told each other things about themselves they had never told each other before.

The dawning of this day brought the premiere of Anthony's _Cavallaria Rusticana_ another day closer. The newlyweds spent the entire day exploring the island of Mozia. As Vinnie had told her, wine flowed ashore, as had champagne had flowed in their cabin. Mary was no novice when it came to drinking; she'd been imbibing wine since the age of five. Some of the best wine she'd ever tasted was to be found on Mozia. They rented a car and discovered little known oddities about the historic isle. The weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky. The breezes were balmy and aromatic. A quaint nostalgia festooned the scenic modest landmass. It wasn't too hot, nor too cool; it was just right. Everything was. What seemed like zillions of flowers carpeted such rich, cushy earth. The island people welcomed them with open arms to make them feel as though they'd lived there always.

Vinnie felt like a king; Mary was his queen and in their kingdom of love they reigned supreme.

But, as with all idyllic tales, they have their end. Two days later, the yacht that had brought them to their tranquil island of conjugal bliss sailed back to Marsala. Before disembarking, they kissed and hugged Captain Lombardo, thanking him for all he'd done for them. Vinnie packed their luggage into the trunk of his car, ran to a nearby vendor to buy Mary a cappuccino and an espresso for himself, and settled himself behind the wheel of his car that had been well-attended in his absence. The attendant of the parking garage had even seen to its being washed, waxed and buffed until its gleam was blinding, one might have mistaken the hood of Vinnie's car for a mirror.

Their drive back to Don Tommasino's villa was a ridden in, for the most part, silence, an amicable one. What they had to face loomed before them like an omnious entity-the homecoming. They contemplated what they were in for once the car pulled up in front of the house. Vinnie had kept her away, not having called to speak of their whereabouts, for what felt like an eternity. If Michael stood on the porch toting an automatic weapon, Vinnie deemed it would be justifiable. In these parts, stealing a man's daughter was a serious wrong. But, he had brought her back. He would have to get used to the idea that Mary wasn't just Uncle Mike's daughter; Mary was now his wife. It was a weighty secret she and he must bear for the time being.

That thought induced a much-needed smile to adorn his lips, lips Mary had kissed swollen so many times on their brief honeymoon. Of course, she hadn't minded in the least that Vinnie had done the same to hers.

As though all at once, they were driving down the dusty road leading into Villa Tommasino. It hadn't rained for a while, causing dust to fly up in clouds as the car sped along. From where she sat, Mary saw three, no, four, familiar figures waiting on the porch. Her mother, Kate, her brother, Anthony, her aunt, Connie and of course, the most anticipated figure of all, who even from where she sat looked lethal…her father. He was wearing his scowl like some hideous mask. He flicked his wrist at the others who waited with him, but the three refused to go away.

"Y'know, you can turn this car around, floor it and we never look back, Vinnie."

"No. We face this like Mancinis, right?"

"It's those irate-looking Corleones with blood in their eyes, who're scaring the heck out of me. I'm just saying we don't have to face all of them, especially Dad, today."

"Better sooner than later, Cuz." Vinnie, fluttering his fingers, waved at his sullen-faced kin.

They were nearly at the front of the villa, moments away from pulling up before the, what looked to Vinnie, the angry mob.

Under her breath, Mary leaked, "Well, we had such a splendid wedding-the best-at least, before our funeral."

"Like you kept reminding me all through our honeymoon, it's gonna be okay." Then, with an edge, he added, "As long as both of us keep our mouths' shut about what we did."

Giving him a wiseacre expression, Mary retorted, "You're the brains of this operation. I'll follow your lead."

"Like a good wife should."

"I am a good wife. Aren't I?"

"The best."

"What about tonight, Vinnie? I want to be with you."

"We have to play it cool, kid. Or else Uncle Mike will have our marriage annulled so fast, it'll make both our heads spin."

Poised, Mary was going to say she liked Vinnie's scheme. He figured that after everyone had gone to sleep, he'd sneak into her room and continue their honeymoon, which was far from being over.

Instead, what she and Vinnie heard as he stopped the car at the front of the lovely old-world mansion and killed the engine was an explosion of expletives from an overwrought Michael Corleone. He watched them get out of the car like a hawk, forgetting how instrumental Vincent had been in saving his life those times in the past. He saw his hands gripping Vinnie's throat, shaking the man limb from limb, choking the life out of him.

"Where the hell have you two been?"

Casually, wanting to shield the hand that wore her wedding and engagement rings from her father's critical eyes, Mary moved it behind her back.

Vinnie was swift to speak up, primed for speaking half-truths. "I took Mary to Marsala, Uncle Mike. I promised her I'd take her to the beach. You know how I hate breaking promises."

Grumbling, still fuming, Michael pointed his finger accusatorily at Vinnie and fired, "Overnight! Two whole days! There's nothing about that that I like! What were you thinking? You know how dangerous it is—especially now, Vincent! Anything could have happened! Coul you live with yourself if your carelessness got Mary killed?"

With Mary nodding, and stifling a goofy smile from appearing on her face, Vinnie defended in a level voice, "You're right, Uncle Mike. You're absolutely right about that, and I'm very sorry for being such an ass, not thinking about the danger. There is no excuse…but it's a fantastic place. Scheeze. So much to see, and do. We got kinda caught up having such a great time. I know. It was wrong, forgetting about-"

"Not calling?" Connie reproached.

Vinnie moved like a jackrabbit to open the trunk and remove his furtive spouse's belongings, and threw his soft-pedaling aunt a healthy look of penance. "You're right. We should have thought to call…at least."

"Tonight's a big night for your brother, Mary. The biggest night of his musical career. Think how your missing his performance would make him feel?"

Anthony tried alleviating the tension of the situation with a mellowing of his facial expression. "She's back home now, Pop. Right? Nothing to worry about now." He moved off from the knot of family to go back into the villa. "I've gotta go rehearse some more before I go. The opera's at eight o'clock sharp. See all of you there. _Ciao_!" He'd be leaving for Palermo two hours from now in advance of the family.

Kate followed her son into the villa, deciding to leave further discussion of her daughter's and her nephew's cavalier behavior in her ex's hands. She was too excited and nervous for Anthony to let this latest brouhaha get the best of her. She prayed that her up-and-coming operatic star gave the best performance of his life, tonight, here in the land where opera had been born. Connie went with Kate into the house.

The remaining three regarded each other, seemingly at an impasse, until Michael ordered Mary into the house. A look she made sure her father never saw passed between Vinnie and herself when she left her husband and father alone to hash this latest stew out.

"I'm not going to tell you again, and this time you'd better get it or else, _Vincenzo_…"

Vinnie raised his eyebrows; when his uncle said his Italian name like that, discussion was over!

"You are never to see Mary again like this. Do-you-understand-me?"

"Yes, Uncle Mike. I understand," Vinnie compliantly responded. "Completely."

"You're not to seek out her company, not even in this house. Not when we return to America."

Nodding continuously, Vinnie conceded as his love for Mary held him in a vise. "I will not see her again. In any way. I swear. She is dead to me." He winced, hearing himself say such a terrible, shocking thing.

"Yes. Yes. That is what I want you to get into that thick skull of yours." Michael bludgeoned his head with his thumb and two fingers. "To protect her so she won't wind up dead because of your association with her."

"I give you my word, Unc—"

"You gave it to me before, but you didn't honor my request."

"That's because I was stupid. I won't make being stupid my goal in life."

"Good, Vincenzo. Good. I love you both so much. Please, please, you must do as I say. I couldn't bear to lose either of you."

Vinnie knelt to kiss his uncle's hand and when he rose to straighten up, he covered the hand he had kissed with both his hands. "Everything is arranged for tonight, Uncle Mike. Down to the last detail. It spells the end of one of your venal enemies."

Michael nodded, breathed out slowly and said, "Remember, you swore."

"I did. I will tell her again tonight that she must love someone else."

* * *

Pulling the trigger and ending the vermin's life was cathartic.

"No! No! No!" Vincent screamed in sheer agony, mortified, seeing his precious wife of only a few days bleeding out from the center of her chest. His anguished cries reverberated like the gunshots that had been fired on the opera house's front steps.

In the next moment, she was dead...

That night, on the stroke of midnight, Mary Corleone-Mancini was shot through the heart, and died in the arms of her father. Before she died, Vinnie shot and killed her cold-blooded killer, the hitman, Mosca. He, armed with a sniper rifle, had shot Michael, wounding him, but brought a tragic end to Mary's life. Deranged over the senseless loss, Michael completely lost his mind, never to be the same. Years following the tragedy, he died of a heart that had been irreparably broken with the horrifc loss of his beloved child.

Vincenzo Mancini Corleone never remarried, having died spiritually that very night his cherished wife took her final breath. He moved to the West Coast, severing all ties with the family. Before he went away, he informed Michael Corleone that he had married Mary in Mozia, Sicily those days they had been away. Mary had died a married woman, whom Vincent had made it potently clear how dearly he had loved her.

In his new life, keeping a low profile, he took menial jobs until he judged that his torrid reputation had died down within the syndicate. He never let his guard down, vigilent that he did not end up in some mob hitman's sights; Mosca's kind were rampant in the underworld. The day finally came when his conscience prodded him to make a crucial decision, profoundly altering the course of his life. He joined law enforcement, working undercover to muck up underworld crime any way he could. He was fierce for taking down key players, and in what he was able to accomplish in a short time. The more dangerous the assignment, the better he liked it. He carried a picture of Mary-always, wherever he went. She was his inspiration and he believed his protection.

He survived without her as best he could. Unselfishly, he helped countless people he never knew, and would never know him, all because of a beautiful, innocent young girl, who had loved him with all she had.

Vinnie loved her, always, till the day he no longer lived.

The End...


End file.
